Forever Enslaved
by SilentStormSociety
Summary: Skyhold's spymaster hides a dark secret. A self harm secret. Cutting triggers a dissociative state of mind to escape the world of unwanted emotions; it's not about pain, it's a release. Will Leliana drown in the dispassionate flirtations of death? Or will Andraste send an angel of rescue?


**A/N: I want to thank my closest friends for all their support and standing behind me on this subject for a long time. Thesegoto11, NattyWright, Eltas Aldaron 31, Scarlet Arachnid, and my island buddy Tyler. Thank you for all those late night reassurances; and all day, every day encouragements.**

 **For World Suicide Prevention Day; September 10, 2016 and To Write Love on Her Arms.**

Smooth fingers slithered across the leather wrapped hilt of the dagger, bringing the blade to eye level. Leliana's stormy orbs glazed over as she lost herself in the reflection of the metal. She noted every serrated chip of the blade's razor sharp edge. Each point sent a chill down her spine as she contemplated just what those jagged tips were capable of.

Gently, she swayed the knife ever so slightly back and forth allowing it to gleam and flash against her eyes in the flickering candlelight. With shaky digits, she lifted her free hand and ran her fingertips along the smooth flat surface of the blade.

It was cold, much more so than she thought it would be. Taking a shuddery breath, Leliana closed her eyes and brought the cool metal to her neck; carefully she glided the flat side of the tool from below her ear to the base of her throat.

She sucked in a deep breath as euphoria jolted through her. Something below the surface screamed for an animalistic release Leliana could not interpret. She imagined its razor edges gliding along her slowly, splitting the skin as every dark emotion filtered out of her.

 _Salvation_ , she thought.

She had to get this evil out of her. There was something inside, something apart of her that felt too strongly about anything and everything. It hurt her, caused her pain, and wore heavily on her soul.

She could never escape it; forever it would follow her. She's fed and released the unexplained evil many times before but it always came back. For years it beckoned, called and coerced her to satisfy and indulge its craving. An everlasting hunger that could never be satiated.

This _thing_ owned her, controlled, taunted, and gripped her painfully. A constant reminder. Leliana shuddered as the previous scars across her body came to life at the thought. They grew cold, twisted and prickled with pain as they deepened their roots, taking permanent residence as they wrapped around her.

 _No escape. Forever enslaved._

Leliana gritted her teeth, pinched her brows and tightened her grip on the hilt as she opened her robe to bear scarred flesh to the world. A single tear leaked from her eye as she brought the blade just above her collarbone, the tiny ridges prodding her as she closed her eyes and pressed deeper.

With one firm, slow glide of a determined hand, Leliana gave in to the intense craving boiling beneath the surface and began to slice. A long, loud grunt escaped her as she ripped a new memory down her body, the incision burning and shrieking in agony as relief flowed out. Her liberation.

A sick smile spread to Leliana's lips; eyes still closed as cold trails of blood gushed from the lengthy wound. She began to relax and sunk to her knees, back arched and face to the stars as her head lulled back in delirium. These precious seconds were what she lived for now. They were all she had. In these moments she did not exist to the world; sorrow, anger, betrayal, no longer did anything have meaning.

Leliana twitched, she blinked several times, suddenly aware of air, the temperature and feel of the atmosphere around her, the flickering of the candles and the sound of her faint breaths. She trembled as more blood trickled from her torso. She looked down and noticed the dark crimson liquid pooling around her knees. It was like kneeling in her own personal pond of passionate displeasure.

She shook her head; it wasn't enough; she needed more. She desperately wanted the effect to last longer. If she wanted to achieve that disillusioned heaven she'd have to slash harder, push deeper until she blinded herself with jubilation.

Leliana raised the dagger high above her chest and stared at it a moment, silently pleading for the weapon to grant her deliverance from her turmoil, however temporary. This time, Leliana didn't close her eyes.

Instead, she hardened her gaze, drew her brows and constricted her muscles as she hacked away at her body. Over and over again, her cold, callous mask remaining in place as she violently shredded away bits of her soul piece by piece.

The skin that imprisoned her was unimportant. She needed to leak the evil. The only way to do that was to feed it which only meant Leliana was caught in an endless cycle. There was no winning. No end in sight.

Only death may free her. Perhaps not even then.

She collapsed the rest of the way to the frozen stone surface of her room, still shaking with need. Heaven eluded her that night. Horrifying desolation set in as Leliana realized it was all over now. Now that she was enslaved to this demonic behavior, there was no longer reason for her to receive the blissful reward.

Now it was just sheer agony and compulsion. She had been conquered. She glanced to the hand still clutching the blade; blood covered the implement. Its sticky surface ran from Leliana's fingers, up her arm and blanketed her torso.

When Leliana threw the knife aside, she was not angry, nor sad. She was simply just. Nothing mattered in those moments following the act. Life no longer had value. Nothing and no one. The trembling redhead brought her knees up and wrapped thin arms around them, slowly rocking back and forth. She shivered as blood continued to flow out of her chest.

Her breath hitched when she heard the door open. Her immediate reaction was usually to hide, flee or clean up. But it was too late, whoever stood behind her saw what Leliana had done. They were already judging her for her pettiness, for her pathetic choice in how she chose to cope and survive the dreadfulness of the world.

Light footsteps came to a stop just behind her backside. Silent tears fell as Leliana sunk her face into her knees; she shivered again as another chill slithered through her. She only wore trousers.

Unexpected warm hands glided up Leliana's back just then, landing on her shoulders and sliding down her arms as an equally warm body wrapped itself around her. The touch was feminine; she immediately recognized the soft touch and scent of forest after a light rain with a slight aftersmell of burnt magic; it was Morrigan.

Morrigan's legs wrapped around Leliana as well. Long pale arms reached beside Leliana and grabbed the towel lying nearby. The spymaster had prepared for this which made her feel even more sick about it. She readied everything she would need and set it up on the floor beside her before committing the heinous deed.

The witch rested the towel on her knee and brought hands around Leliana to unlace her arms and urge her to lean back against the witch. The redhead whimpered as the cuts stretched and stung. Slowly, Morrigan dipped the towel into the bowl of water beside them and gently brought the cloth to Leliana's chest.

She hovered over the wounds a moment so Leliana could prepare for the sting to come before ever so softly pressing the damp cloth to the mutilated skin. Leliana's lids squeezed tight, and she seethed in pain at the contact. After a moment, the pain eased as Morrigan held her steady.

Leliana relaxed in Morrigan's arms, tears still silently streaming as she allowed the witch to clean her. The witch took her time, every caress slow, gentle, and tender. She'd dip the towel back into the bowl, then hover it over Leliana a few seconds each time allowing her to adjust and prepare.

Once the trembling mess that was Leliana was finally clean; Morrigan rose to her feet and disappeared before returning a few moments later with remedial wrappings. She kneeled before the spymaster and carefully began to dress each wound. Leliana watched the witch work in awe. Never had Leliana had someone show her such… tenderness. The nurturing was such an intimate experience.

Once bandaged, Morrigan stood and outstretched a palm for Leliana to take which she eagerly accepted. As Leliana stood before the woman, she was rendered speechless. Thank you couldn't begin to convey how she felt.

Blue sapphires swelled with tears once more as she continued to gaze at her raven-haired saviour. Morrigan's brows drew together and pulled Leliana in for a firm but gentle hug. Leliana's arms wrapped around the other woman as she allowed the tears to finally fall.

The hug lasted a long moment. Neither spoke. Nothing needed to be said. Leliana understood perfectly. _I am not alone_.


End file.
